The One Hundred Moments Project
by OstentatiousNature
Summary: One writer's quest to capture one hundred moments. Also follow me on my blog  LINK INSIDE!
1. Introduction and Prompt 001: Beginnings

The One Hundred Moments Project

Hello and welcome to my new thing: _The One Hundred Moments Project._

This is where I pick a fandom and attempt to write one hundred little drabble fanfictions about it using a list of one hundred prompts I have on my computer thanks to "The Ultimate FanFic Challenge 2010".

For an easier way to navigate (and prettier graphics) you can also follow me on my blog at

http colon backslash onehundredmomentsproject dot blogspot dot com

(I spelled it out because otherwise it doesn't show up)

For the first installment I have chosen PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS!

Well, there's my spiel! On with the fun, right?

* * *

Prompt # 001 – Beginnings

**THE PATH LESS TRAVELED**

Time Frame: The Titan's Curse – Chapter Three

Pairing: None

**

"It is important to honor our beginnings, to remember that we matter and that we have a place in this world that no one else has"

- Anonymous

**

I remember that day. The scent of hot chocolate, and the warmth of the air.

I remember how it felt to sit on that rug and feel the power all around me. Decisions, decisions, but I wanted it too badly.

I could feel the world before me—on the edge of which I was teetering. To leave my brother, to leave my self-less, horrible, miserable life behind: I was too much to pass up.

What really drew me was a chance to finally begin a new—to scramble up from the dark sandpit my life and become and know there was something else.

The magic, the splendor, the power, the hot chocolate…

That was not the point.

I wanted to be something different, something new—anything, anything other than what I had been living—finally a place to belong!

My lips moved, my heart soared, the lights flared. I saw him, the boy with the black hair and green eyes looking horror struck at me but I didn't care.

Whatever I had done, whoever I had betrayed—that was all behind me.

I had chosen my path.

And I took off running without second glance.


	2. Prompt 002: Middles

Prompt # 002 – Middles

**Dawning**

Time Frame: The Battle of the Labyrinth

Pairing: Percy/Annabeth

**

"Yesterday brought the beginning,

Tomorrow brings the end

But somewhere in the middle

We've become the best of friends."

- Anonymous

**

Annabeth can't remember when it started. And now, frankly, she doesn't care.

It doesn't matter when the messy hair went from irritating to charming. It doesn't matter when the spacey mindset went from exasperating to adorable. It doesn't matter when the name calling went from provoking to endearing.

It doesn't matter when that boy became _the_ boy.

The beginning is not so important to Annabeth now.

For in a world where days fly by in anxious whirls and every sunset may be your last, there is no time to dwell on the past. Annabeth knows this—she knows this better than most. Luke has shown her that much.

But she is older and wiser than she once was, and now Annabeth understands. How something began or ended does not matter now: here.

The place where she currently stands the only thing that is important now.

And how she came to be in that place, or where she will be tomorrow, she knows not, and she cares not.

All that matters is that, today, he is there beside her.

~fin~


	3. Prompt 003: Endings

Prompt # 003 – Endings

**Truth**

Time Frame: Beginning of The Last Olympian

Pairing: None

**

" 'Tell me a story...'

'What kind of story, child?'

'A story with a happy ending.'

'There's no such thing in all the world.'

'As a happy ending?'

'As an ending.' "

- _Lighthouse Keeping_ By: Jeanette Winterson

**

Nico understands the meaning of an ending.

Being the son of the god of death, you understand death…you appreciate it. That doesn't mean Nico isn't afraid to die—oh, he is. Thirteen years is much too short. It just means that he isn't afraid of death itself; the dark taboo that has been placed around the concept in other's minds does not cloud Nico's perceptions. He understands the ebb and flow of life, that endings are necessary.

And for this knowledge—the non-rejection of death in life—he is forced into the life he is now living. He's the "Goth" kid, the death kid, the one that throws Happy Meals into graves. He is the kid who survived the Labyrinth, he is the kid who has tremendous and terrible power. He is that kid that dresses in black and is never at camp and doesn't belong there anyway.

And it is because of these things, brought on by his bloodline and understanding, that Nico is an outsider.

Because everyone is scared of what he stands for.

But it is not dark, it is not evil, it is not wrong, Nico knows. Death is natural, and even beautiful in its own way. The end is not indeed an end, but essentially just another beginning.

Death and life are one. Every ending is just another door opening. It is not good, it is not evil: there are no sides in life and death.

There is only balance.

There are no true endings.

~fin~


	4. Prompt 004: Inside

Prompt # 004 – Inside

**Within**

Time Frame: The Titan's Curse – Chapter 18

Pairing: None

POV: Artemis

**

"Hope, like fear, comes from within."

-_Deep Wizardry_ By: Diane Duane

**

I do not wish to look. I do not wish to see.

She is in my arms now—her tiny fragile body. Centuries upon centuries of battle, and now she is broken. My invincible hunter is now a bleeding, crumpled rag doll in my arms.

But her eyes—I do not want to see them looking so empty, so distant. She is looking to me; the night's sky as she always had, but I do not want to see her now.

I want to watch those eyes burn for the hunt. I want to watch those eyes scan the ground for prints. I want to watch those eyes looking far onto the horizon—longing for the next adventure she will lead.

But now as I look inside her, all I see is her love. And I am scared to see it. For such raw, unfiltered emotion from my lieutenant can only mean the end for her. I see into her soul through her eyes and it is so beautiful—silver like moonlight on freshly fallen snow.

Her dark hair falls into her eyes, and I brush it away, tucking it back beneath her silver circlet—the mark of my blessing.

I offer to heal her wounds but we all know somewhere inside she is wrecked beyond repair. I do not seek within her body, I do not wish to see how broken she is. I have seen enough blood and death to last eternity.

So instead I look into her through her eyes—reflecting back the twinkling stars. They are smiling down upon her tonight.

"Stars," my hunter whispers. "I can see the stars again, my lady."

I do not wish to look. I do not wish to see the stars opening their arms to her, waiting for her, calling to her. Do not beckon her! I want to shout at them. Do not call her from me!

But even I cannot divert the Fates. Life and death is not the duty which I was given.

I close my eyes, listening to the stars calling her.

"Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight."

I open my eyes again. I watch them sparkle in her eyes. Her soul, silver as the moon dances behind them, her face filled with reverence as she gazes upon the night's sky.

The stars are within her—the night's sky a part of her.

My hunter goes still and I whisper a blessing, my eyes closed for I do not wish to see.

Take her, I tell the sky, let her be free.

The stars were within her—the nights sky a part of her.

Now she is within the stars.

And a part of the night's sky she shall be forever.

~fin~


	5. Prompt 005: Outside

Prompt # 005 Outside

Boundaries Time Frame: Chapter 4 of The Lightning Thief Pairing: None

**

Before I had my child, I thought I knew all the boundaries of myself, that I understood the limits of my heart. It's extraordinary to have all those limits thrown out, to realize your love is inexhaustible.

-Uma Thurman (haha, Medusa! Coincidences make me smile!)

**

To Sally Jackson, nothing is more important than Percy. He is her reason for living. When the rest of the world dims and blurs into the dismal grey apartment and the awful smell of Gabe and her exhausting job and she almost can t take it anymore Percy walks through the front door and she has the strength to carry on.

To Sally, Percy is the only thing that keeps her from drowning.

Because when she sees his messy black hair she can feel a sea breeze pulling it in all directions. Because when she looks into his eyes she can see the ocean, the waves lapping at the beach.

Because when she looks at Percy, she sees not only her beloved son. She sees him her constant reminder of the only thing that ever went right in her life.

But now as she sprints across the dark path up the hill, sees her son s terrified wide-eyed expression, she wonders if it was worth it to have a child with him, to put Percy in such danger, to risk his life like this.

She sees the horror, the confusion in his eyes and it almost makes her sob in fear and hopelessness. Her legs are burning and her heart is pounding and her breath is coming in short gasps, and they are dragging Grover behind them, desperate to get up the hill.

To the tree and he ll be safe! To the tree and he ll be safe! She chants it over and over in her mind. It is their only hope now.

Sally Jackson is not worried about what she ll do once Percy is safely within the magical boundaries of the camp the boundaries which she cannot cross. She doesn t much care what happens to her now. Once he is in the camp, he ll be cared for, he ll be safe!

Her mind races as he pelts her with hurried, breathless questions as they run. She can t answer her mind is to full of panic and adrenaline and quilt.

They reach the top of the hill and she yells for him to go, but he doesn t. He is yelling at her to come with him. Good, sweet Percy. He is much to kind for the life he has been dealt. That kindness will be his downfall.

She screams for him to run, for if it ends here, so close, so close she will not be able to bear it. So much she has tried, so much she has given up because all she wants is for her son to live a happy life that is all any mother wants. She can feel the barrier repelling her mortal blood from even a few feet away; she can feel the Minotaur behind her both ways are an end, but there is a way out for him a boundary which she cannot breach.

She will always be on the outside of this world that she does not belong in but he does, and he does, but not her. No, not Sally.

And because of this, Sally is sure she will die tonight.

But because of Percy, it does not matter.

Because of Percy, she does not care.

There are no boundaries of how far she is willing to go to protect him. And because of that she stands on the other side of the pine tree forever on the outside looking in.

~fin~ 


	6. Prompt 006: Hours

Prompt # 006 – Hours

**Final Hour**

Time Frame: The Last Olympian: Chapter Seventeen

Pairing: None

POV: Clarisse

**

"All the hours wound you—the last one kills you." 

-Latin Proverb

**

She's lying in my arms and I can't believe it.

I hated her, I _hated_ her so much. Shallow little girl who could barely take care of herself in a fight. Gah, I wanted to ring her skinny tanned neck.

I hated her for being pretty, I hated her for being happy all the time, I hated her for stealing my chariot and cabin to come here today.

But I know her now. I know how nice she is, how she is emotional when I am too proud to be, how she knew Chris and I were meant for each other. She is my foil and my friend. And now it is her final hour.

And I am crying, actually crying. I don't cry. I never cry. I'm a daughter of Ares. We _don't_ cry. But now, as I see her there, I want to punch her, to shake her.

Don't die, you idiot! I want to scream it at her. She was never cut out for war, why did she come here?

But I know the answer. I know why. Because I was selfish, because I was vain. She wanted to make up for her mistakes, and now it had cost her.

Every little decision she has made, and one big one I have are now why she is laying in my arms instead of on a tanning bed. It's why she has drakon poison filmed on her face instead of moisturizer. It's why she's wearing my armor instead of her Abercrombie jeans. It's why she's slowing drawing her fifth to last breath, fourth to last breath…

The clock keeps ticking for her. The final moments of her final hour.

"You're _not_ dying!" I insist, staring into her once beautiful features. She was my enemy—now my friend, like so many others. They are out there dying too. I need to help them!

"Charlie…" she whispers, and her face swims before my eyes with frustration and anger and hopelessness. So many we have lost. "See…Charlie…"

I feel the tightness leave her body, and the pain fade from her crumpled brow. Now Silena is in a different pair of arms far below me, without pain, without heartache.

"She was a hero, understand?" I spit at the campers standing around me as I stand up. I wipe all evidence of saltwater-weakness from my eyes, and I feel Chris's comforting, steady hand on my shoulder. "A hero."

She's left me here to finish what she started.

No more will die.

I pick up a sword from another of our dead…and run screaming into battle.

~fin~


	7. Prompt 007: Days

Prompt # 007 – Days

**At The End of the Day**

Time Frame: The Last Olympian (just before the final battle)

Pairing: Percy/Annabeth

POV: Percy

**

"At the end of the day there's another day dawning  
And the sun in the morning is waiting to rise  
Like the waves crash on the sand  
Like a storm that'll break any second  
There's a hunger in the land  
There's a reckoning still to be reckoned and  
There's gonna be hell to pay  
At the end of the day!"

-"At the End of the Day"

From: _Les Miserables_

**

I have always been stubborn. Annabeth has constantly reminded of how annoying I am because of it since we first met. But I don't mind much. It's a good thing I sometimes. Like now.

We are divvying up Manhattan. This is my city's final stand. We, the children of the gods, heroes of our age are finally at the end. It is do or die.

Everything is here. My family, my friends, my home, my life…if I give it up there will be nothing left of me. New York is my home. And if Kronos and his army take over, they are going to have to take me with it.

Annabeth looks over at me, and I see her eyes. So grey. And can tell she's scared. Her mind is racing, calculating, analyzing, but she is scared. I am too, but I try not to let it show in my voice. Because of her, surely—she is why I am so strong even now.

I need to have those eyes clear and focused now. It is essential. I need to let her know this mad game is almost done.

Because one way or another it will be over soon. And I refuse to let us be the ones defeated.

We are heroes. We will conquer.

When the smoke clears, it will be our blades and armor that shine in the sunlight. It will be our voices that ring victorious over Manhattan.

We will not give up hope.

Because at the end of the day…we will still be standing.

~fin~


	8. Prompt 008: Weeks

Prompt # 008 Weeks

**Choice **

Time Frame: Battle of the Labyrinth 

Pairing: Percy/Calypso, Percy/Annabeth

***  
The distance is nothing; it is only the first step that is difficult.

-Madame Marie du Deffand

***

Two weeks, one choice.

Percy Jackson has never felt so lost.

Completely cut off from the world, he is floating on a cloud, as if in that sweet transition between waking and sleeping. Every breath fills him with the sleepy, lulling scent of flowers and the sweetness and her.

He can see her, standing a ways from him, silhouetted by the moonlight and she is so sweet, and perfect

Calypso.

So close and so lovely like a flower in a window box, assuring him that if he just forgets everything else life would be perfect.

Dreamland, he is in. Not fully real, yet not fully false.

It is like he is in a different universe, separated completely from the plane he once resided on. So beautiful and surreal that it certainly cannot last a dream that must disperse in the morning hours. He can feel it: like a nagging tug on the back of his mind, pulling him away from the realm of sleep and dreams back into his harsh reality.

Annabeth.

He can still feel her like a slow ache, painful but real, reminding him she is still out there waiting for him.

Like a lingering kiss, he can still feel her.

Percy stands, his feet rooted to the sand, the water swirling about his ankles. Which direction to move his feet? Back to the warm soft bed and the promise of another careless day or into the ocean, back home to all he left.

The wave crash and churn and he can feel their power. He closes his eyes, wondering what to do.

Inside his mind, he sways like the currents of the ocean, letting go, releasing himself to the power and wisdom of the ocean, trusting it to guide him to his destiny.

He takes a step and knows he is going home.

~fin~


	9. Prompt 009: Months

Prompt # 009 – Months

**Remain**

Time Frame: Three months after Luke left to join Kronos

Pairing: Annabeth/Luke (sort of)

**

"Three months and I'm still breathing."

-_Sober_

By: Kelly Clarkson

**

He is gone.

Annabeth sits on the edge of her bed, staring down at the carpeted floor of her father's home.

It has been three months. Has it really been that long? It doesn't seem that long, yet it seems like so much longer.

Luke. Not Luke. Anyone but Luke.

_That's not true_, a voice in her head whispers. She pushes it aside.

How could he? After so much. After so much they'd been through together, how could he just throw it all away? All those times he'd saved her live. All those times they'd laughed, and cried, and thought it was going to be the end.

How could he just…

Annabeth puts her head in her hands.

It has been three months. But here she is, living life as if there is nothing different. As if she can just live her life without Luke in it.

He was…her older brother, her mentor, her role model, her…he was all she had to look up to. He was all she had when she was little.

How can he just toss her aside like last month's trash?

She deliberately takes in a deep breath and let it out.

_All you need to do is keep breathing, Annabeth_, she instructs herself. _Just keep breathing_.

She stands up and walks over to the window, looking out over San Francisco.

Three months.

She is here…and Luke isn't.

~fin~


	10. Prompt 010: Years

Prompt # 010 - Years

**Eon**

Time Frame: Before the Series

Pairing: None

"Immortality—a fate worse than death"

-Edgar A. Shoaff

It has been millennia, yet the gods remain.

An eternity of rule and bicker and watching from the clouds of Mt. Olympus. It is not such a terrible fate to the eyes of those on the ground—to their ancient subjects, and today their children. To be forever powerful and forever young and forever alive.

But to the gods of Mt. Olympus, the view is quite different.

Year after year passes in the blink of an eye. Generations of men are born, grow old, and die before breakfast. Their children are barely there at all. It is a never ending cycle of a changing world below them while the place they are stays the same—forever.

The same family, the same arguments, the same power.

No wonder they have so many children.

It is a brief moment in the eons of their eternal lives in which they can feel remotely human. They love passionately and have children that must face difficulties of their own. They can feel the intense sting of grief that comes with knowing that someday the one you know will die so you must make every day last.

And this desperation—this longing for a taste of what ever human on earth can have is what the gods secretly crave the most as the years roll by, like a wave over a rock that touches but does not alter it.

And then their children become great heroes, or die by monster or time's hand. Their brief affairs wither and die. The landscape changes, the people lose faith, the center of the flame moves west.

And then the cycle repeats itself—with the gods remaining alone and isolated from those they oversee on top of their mountain palace yet prison for eternity.


	11. Prompt 011: Red

Prompt # 011 - Red

**Loser**

Time Frame: The Lightning Thief – Chapter 8: We Capture a Flag

Pairing: None

POV: Annabeth

P.S. I don't have TLT with me right now, so I don't know the exact details/dialogue

"You must never be satisfied with losing. You must get angry, terribly angry, about losing. But the mark of the good loser is that he takes his anger out on himself and not his victorious opponents or on his teammates."

-Richard M. Nixon

I can see them running and I can't believe it.

That complete _idiot_ of a boy really did that.

I can see him—streaking through the trees, the giant red flag fluttering behind him as his too-big helmet slips down over his eyes as he runs. Who does this little unclaimed nobody think he is? Big three material?

I let out strangled, frustrated curse as I see the other team running towards our line. I call for reinforcements, but they're all following the plan—like he was _supposed_ to do!—and are over by where the Ares flag should have been.

Through the trees I can see him running and for a moment, a glimmer of hope spurs in my chest—maybe this lunatic, spontaneous, completely illogical move might work. Maybe we'll win…..?

And then I see the Ares kids stride across our line, flag in hand far down the boundary line. We've lost because of this stupid kid.

I throw down my spear and shield, ripping off my helmet in frustration as I stalk over to give this newbie, nobody a piece of my mind.

He may have killed a Minotaur, but he's lost us Capture the Flag. And one is _way_ more important than the other. He may have been cool for a while because of his initial rep, but now my cabin-mates and I are going to make his life a living hell.

My feet stomp against the forest ground, my armor clanking as I draw close to him, trying to shoot arrows from my eyes at him.

Who does this kid think he is?

It's about time someone told him how things are done around here.

~fin~


	12. Prompt 012: Orange

Prompt # 012 - Orange

**Sunrise, Sunset**

Time Frame: Pre-PJO Series

Pairing: Apollo/Other Character

POV: A Woman Apollo Had an Affair With

"It was as if all of the happiness, all of the magic of this blissful hour had flowed together into these stirring, bittersweet tones and flowed away, becoming temporal and transitory once more."

-Alexandra Starr

x0x0x0x0x

One-hundred and fifty three incredible sunrises, one-hundred and fifty three unbearable sunsets. Five months and everyday was a new wonderful day of life and love—the world set ablaze with orange flames as sunlight touched every inch of my life.

My sunrise had been the most wonderful day of my life—as if a light had finally lit up my soul and the world around me began to glow when he was with me. Golden haired and beautiful: bright and alive.

But as those days flew by, my sun slowly moved across my sky.

As the noon of my romance approached, I was pregnant.

When I told him, he positively glowed. Child of the sun, I thought. My child would be bright and brilliant like him.

But I knew I wouldn't be able to take care of him properly—my lover had told me as much. I would have to send him off each summer, maybe even during the year, to keep him safe. He would have to train and be strong in order to survive.

But he was his son, I thought. He will be strong and agile and quick and smart. My child will overcome all that comes his way.

But I knew. I knew this brief affair would have to end once I really knew the nature of his situation. It was only natural that a romance with the god of the Sun would burn hot and bright and much too fast.

It would be over, I knew.

His attention would drift as it had for millennia. He would find other woman. He would move across the land like the sun across the sky, causing sunrises and sunsets for different girls everywhere.

So the sun set low across my horizon on that one-hundred and fifty third day, and we said our goodbyes. He was leaving. It was not his fault, I knew—only his nature. Every day must have a sunrise and sunset. He knew this more than anyone.

The world once again was lit with the orange of the sun on a horizon, only it was west instead of east, the orange mixing with pinks and purples.

It was so beautiful I started to cry.

And so, as the sun set, I wept: my arms around me where my baby inside me grew warm and alive — my little sun that still had yet to dawn.

~fin~


	13. Prompt 013: Yellow

Prompt # 013 - Yellow

**In My Final Moment**

Time Frame: The Last Olympian

Pairing: None

POV: Michael Yew

x0x0x0x0x

"What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal."

-Albert Pine

x0x0x0x0x

A flash of searing pain and I am down, my back smacking into the hard pavement of the Williamsburg Bridge, and I know I'm not going to get up again.

There is a slash in my chest and I can feel my life slowly ebbing away, trickling to the pavement creating a pool of red around me. Pandemonium has erupted all around me. No one can see me—a giant chunk of steel and cable having fallen loose from one of the towers and dropped near me, shielding my body from all who might heal me.

But, being a healer myself, I know it is no use. I am not long for this world, anyhow.

All demigods know it is a good chance we would die before the age of twenty, but in the back of our minds it is always the little voice of human doubt saying: "Not me! I'm too quick and smart for that!"

But I guess it was my time.

I can hear the sonic arrows—the gift from my father I can divvied up among my cabin—soaring high along the bridge, diving into the throngs of monsters that threatened our home.

It was not such a bad way to die, I think—dying to protect those you love. Sure, I had been snarky, sarcastic, rude even…but that didn't mean I didn't love each and everyone one of them. At camp, we're the only family we've got. We may quarrel, we may fight, but at the end of the day, it's us against the evil of the world and everyone else who doesn't understand.

To die protecting that is not so bad.

I relax into the hard pavement pressing against my back, peering up at the brilliantly blue sky as my vision blurs. The pain is dulling—even distant now. I gaze up on the sun, the bright, brilliant sun. It flickers—yellow and bright and fierce.

_Keep fighting._ It seems to urge me. _Pick up your bow again, Son._

Yes, I agree although my side burns and my arms feel like concrete, my work is not done. Until the last second, I must fight. For each monster I do not kill, could be the one that kills my brothers or my sisters, or any of the other campers that I hold dear.

I struggle to my knees, my vision flickering and whirling wildly. I grasp around and finally feel my hand brush over the shape of my bow. The familiar feel of my fingers closing around its form gives me strength.

I tip my head back once more, feeling the sun warm my face for the last time. I close my eyes, the sun setting the inside of my head aglow with warm, yellow light.

"Father," I whisper to the sky, "guide my arrow…this one last time…" I weakly notch my last arrow. I can feel my hands shaking as my body loses more blood, more blood, pouring to the pavement like an offering…but I pick my target.

"…guide my arrow…" I manage to move my lips, but no sound escapes…only air…my final breath.

…and I release the arrow.

And as I collapse back to the pavement, my eyes finally closing, I know it found its mark.

~fin~


	14. Prompt 014: Green

Prompt # 014 - Green

**Connection**

Time Frame: Post-Battle of the Labyrinth

Pairing: None

POV: Grover

"The poetry of the earth is never dead."

-John Keats

It should feel the same, Grover thinks. This camp—his home—should feel the same as it has for every summer he has known it. But it isn't the same.

Everything is so much more alive.

Walking through the strawberry fields, he can feel them—the little plants' yearnings to grow tall and strong, to strangle the fences that keep them contained, to reclaim this soil that was once theirs. He can feel their lives and seeds and potential. He can feel the life-giving richness of the soil beneath his hooves. He reaches out to brush his hands along the leaves—so green and glowing in the bright sunlight.

Ever since that day, Grover is no longer only a spectator of the wild's glory. He is a part of it. He stops, closing his eyes. He sits down among the strawberries, their green leaves creating a cocoon dotted with red berries around him.

Fishing his pan flutes from pocket, he brings them to his lips, and begins to play.

The music—ancient and glorious as the first towering tree—pours onto the plants and the soul, drifting up into the infinite sky above him. It is almost a tangible thing: strands of sound weaving from his pipers, caressing the plants and pulling them closer to him. They lean towards him, as if anxious to better hear his music.

Beneath him, Grover can feel the sparse blades of grass punching up through the earth, as if breaking the surface of water to breathe. He is surrounded by the warm kiss of early summer air, his music floating upon its gentle winds.

_Now you see, child,_ the ancient earth seems to whisper to him. There is a change somewhere inside him as he feels the spirit of the wild earth and all the life around him, swirling about him, singing and dancing and sighing and laughing in the afternoon sun.

His song slowly ends, and he sets his piped down into the rich earth, opens his eyes…

…and all he can see is green.

_Now you finally see._

~fin~


	15. Prompt 015: Blue

Prompt # 015 - Blue

**My Silena**

Time Frame: The Last Olympian – Chapter One

Pairing: Silena/Beckendorf

POV: Charles Beckendorf

"…the world could be burning 'til there's nothing but dark blue."

-_Dark Blue_

By: Jack's Mannequin

I watch as he disappears over the side of the ship and I feel the currents sway the boat as they pull him further away from me—to safety. He's a good kid, a great fighter: a true hero. I hope they welcome him as one when he gets back to camp.

He will serve a greater purpose than I will. I know this, and am not ashamed or jealous…it's just the way things are. He _needs_ to be there when the camp makes the final stand of this war. He will be the one to lead us to victory or ruin.

I look back into the faces of my captors. They have no idea of what awaits them…unlike me. I know full well what is coming. I can feel the tiny clock on my wrist, its tiny mechanical gears whirring, ticking down the seconds like the quick, steady beatings of my heart.

I stare out at the ocean. It is dark today, despite the sun glittering on its surface. So deep and fathomlessly, beautifully blue.

Just like her eyes.

My eyelids close and I think of Silena. Good, sweet, beautiful Silena. One summer with her was not nearly enough. I think of how her eyes glitter like the ocean today—like some precious jewel reflecting the light of the stars.

For her, I think. Of course it is for her.

I do this, also, to save the camp further misfortune at the hands of the Titans, to save Western Civilization, to save the gods, Mt. Olympus…but really it is all for her, I realize.

To save my Silena and her beautiful eyes.

I do not hear the explosion so much as I feel it—I must be going deaf in the few split-seconds before I die, engulfed in the flames, like the tools of my father.

Entering and exiting the world in fire: forged and destroyed by flame—truly a son of Hephaestus.

But all I can think of is her.

_Silena…Silena…Silena…_

And then…the world does not go black—it goes dark blue.

~fin~


	16. Prompt 016: Purple

Prompt # 016 - Purple

**Writer's Block**

Time Frame: None

Pairing: None

POV: Apollo

"Allison grunted in frustration. Nothing rhymed with purple."

-_Wayside School Gets a Little Stranger_

By: Louis Sachar

Damn English, I curse.

What kind of language has words that don't rhyme with one another? How completely absurd!

Language is a moving, liquid being: the words should be able to bend and wrap around each other smoothly—naturally, the syllables all lining up, cadences clicking together…and above all: _rhyming when needed_!

I hate the word, I decide. Just like orange. _Purple_.

Maybe in the next hundred years or so, another of my children will be just as gifted in the art as my son, Shakespeare. Ah, William.

Now there was a son someone could be proud of.

Not only did his poetry inspire others for generations to come, not only did he use the language, worship and adore it, but he gave back. He picked the fruits, used it to nourish his work, and then planted the seeds—introducing over 1700 words the English language had never seen which are now a part of everyday speech.

And I mean, honestly. A great deal of things rhyme with "lonely" and "bump."

Maybe my next premiere poet will invent a word to rhyme with this wretched "purple."

I will make sure whoever does is plastered across the history books for all eternity.

Damn English.

~fin~


	17. Prompt 017: Brown

Prompt # 017 - Brown

**Burial**

Time Frame: Post-Titan's Curse, Pre-Battle of the Labyrinth

Pairing: None

POV: Nico Di Angelo

"The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone."

-Harriet Beecher Stowe

Nico stands and Nico stares.

His chest is heaving, his eyes stinging, his nails digging into his palms. He's finally stopped running. Somewhere in the woods outside Camp Half-Blood, he is surrounded by trees and boulders and the occasional babble of the creek far off in the distance. He doesn't know where he is, and he really doesn't care. It doesn't make much of a difference, now does it, he reasons.

Bianca is gone, how could anything else matter. Through the tears brimming in his eyes, the dark packed earth beneath him swims and swirls like a kaleidoscope of grief. His sister, his mother for all intents-and-purposes, his only attainable family left…now she was gone too.

Gone because of a stupid quest to find some stupid boy's stupid girlfriend and some stupid goddess he hadn't even believed in three weeks ago. None of it had been worth his sister's life. Nothing could have been worth that.

How ironic, he thinks. A child of Hades having to embrace death so early in life.

He is ten years old and completely alone in the world.

He could go back to camp, but that idea is shot down as soon as it enters his mind. No way in Hades is Nico going back to that camp with that lying, murdering Percy Jackson. No where to go, no food, no money, and no knowledge of this new, advanced world he had been thrust into.

Bianca would have known what to do. She had always known. _She_ was the leader. _She_ would have taken care of him.

_But she's dead_, he reminds himself. _Dead and gone. She can't help you now_.

And that thought is what brings him to his knees on the forest floor, sobbing and clutching his hair, his arms, his clothes, grasping for something, something real to hold onto as the hot tears pour down his face and his breaths come short and quick. His exhaustion and worry and fear all come crashing down on him and he finally just lays on his back on the cool dirt and stares up at the sky through the trees, letting his sobs rip unhindered from his chest, his arms wrapped around himself, clutching his sleeves as if trying to keep himself from falling apart.

He is alone and scared and regardless of whatever powers or parents he might have, he is still only a child.

Finally, his tears slow and stop all together. His breathing evens until his is lying on the forest floor, feeling completely empty. The brown earth is cool and loose at the base of this tree, his abused hands finding relief as he lays them against it.

_How peaceful it is here_, he thinks. _Bianca would have liked it here._

After a moment, he drags himself to his knees, brushing the bits of grass and earth clinging to his jacket off. He digs in his pocket a MythoMagic keychain Bianca had once bought him. He slowly drags himself to the tree and, using one of the sharp corners, slowly and painfully carves a small cross into the bark, and under it, the letters B. D. A.

In the loose dirt near the tree's roots, and covers the little keychain with rich brown soil—the same color as his eyes—and presses, feeling the dirt compact around the little charm.

"I'll bring you back," Nico whispers. "Somehow. I promise."

~fin~


	18. Prompt 018: Black

Prompt # 018 - Black

**In Shadow**

Time Frame: After Maria Di Angelo's Death

Pairing: Vague Hades/Marie

POV: Hades

"Without black, no color has any depth. But if you mix black with everything, suddenly there's shadow - no, not just shadow, but fullness. You've got to be willing to mix black into your palette if you want to create something that's real." 

-Amy Grant

He hasn't seen the sky for six months—not since the last council. Not since _her_. Upon his throne of shadows and death, Hades sits, having ordered Persephone away—wanting only to be alone in this blackness this is his and his alone.

She is dead, and it isn't fair. Sweet, kind Maria.

He glances upwards towards the shadowed semblance of a sky. He is simultaneously furious and empty—Zeus had no right to kill his Maria, attempt to murder his _children_. If the places had been reversed: a prophecy made about a child of Zeus overthrowing Hades, Hades' actions would have been shocking: out of line. To kill a son or daughter of Zeus would have been unacceptable.

But because the situations are not reversed, Maria is dead, his children forced to hide, and he is once again trapped in the underworld while Zeus remains no worse-for-the-wear.

Rage floods him, and his pale, thin fingers grip the obsidian armrests of his throne. Just because drew the short straw in the beginning, he is destined to eternity of forever being below his brothers, forever underground while they reign in the world above.

Unfair, he thinks, unfair that Zeus should get the wide open skies as his domain: clear and vast and beautiful. Unfair, he thinks, that Poseidon should rule the immense oceans: blue and open and endless. Unfair, he thinks, that he is forced to remain in this dark black abyss beneath the world of the living,

But it is a necessary job. The death is more important that the sea and the sky, he realizes. For it is their people, their subjects that matter. And it is only death that is a true part of them. When humans fade from the earth, the sea and sky will remain, but death will be a distant memory. And without humans, the gods will fade with them: forever tied to their initiative and ingenuity.

As god of the dead, Hades is more in tune with the human world than his brothers that rule among them.

He is needed, he is necessary…but no one sees.

He is an outcast—the shadow of the gods. He is exiled from Olympus, his children finding no acceptance, his domain feared and hated.

He is cursed to live the rest of eternity in shadow—gazing longingly upward at a black sky.

~fin~


	19. Prompt 019: White

Prompt # 019 - White

**Frozen**

Time Frame: Post-Titan's Curse, Pre-The Last Olympian: Winter

Pairing: Vague Thalia/Luke

POV: Thalia

"Oh…the snow is burying this town."

-_Godric's Hollow_

By: Romilda Vane and the Chocolate Cauldrons

The world around me is white. White sky, white ground, white everything in between. White snowflakes dance and float gently to the ground—blanketing the silent, sleeping earth.

I sprint through the frozen forest, my bow secured comfortingly on my back. Among the whirling flakes and crystallized trees, I see more hoof prints and pick up the trail once more. My senses are sharpened and focused due to the frigid air—there is nothing like the thrill of the hunt in winter. I love hunting in the winter far more than any other season. There is just something about the whiteness and the cold and the silence.

I can think out here…far away from the others. I can finally just think.

My tracking goes on auto-pilot as my mind drifts like the silent snow. Drifts stirring up other drifts—revealing distant memories I had not allowed myself to think of in forever.

It was a day like this, I remember. A frozen, beautiful Christmas day: just us three. Just me and Luke and Annabeth, huddled under a frosted pine, warming our hands by the fire, exchanging joking gifts of pine cones and snowballs having nothing substantial to give.

We were cold and hungry and lost and alone but we were happy—forever not knowing what tomorrow would bring, constantly wondering and worrying but together. We lived each day as if it might be our last.

Now, as I flit between the trees, they seem less beautiful to me without my Luke and my Annabeth here. I miss living so strongly and fiercely.

Don't misunderstand, I love being a hunter. I am free of my duty and responsibility of being a child of the big three. I serve my goddess and lead the hunts. I get to track and stalk and shoot with my sisters.

But I miss the feeling of waking up, not knowing what to expect—of always anticipating the far distant future ...how our lives will turn out: me and Luke and Annabeth

I skid to a halt in the powdery snow as it suddenly strikes me that Annabeth will have to be as old as me by now. I remember taking care of her as a little girl. We will look the same age now. My heart grows heavy, suddenly, as I think of how much taller she will grow, how she will become a woman—full of power and grace. I will forever been a fifteen-year-old girl—still slightly awkward, despite my added reflexes, not quite yet grown into my body and, I realize, I never will.

And Luke…ah, my Luke. He is further gone than any I used to know. Luke will never surpass me the way Annabeth will. He will die soon—is already dead for all intents and purposes. Hot tears sting my eyes all of a sudden as I realize I will never get to lay an escape route, or stand back to back in a fight with him ever again. I will never get to whisper my fears to him after Annabeth has fallen asleep, or feel him hold me as I wake from a nightmare in the dark, sobbing like a child.

How far they have come since then.

Annabeth…then—a tiny yet determined child, now—a strong fighter, strong leader, strong girl.

Luke…then—a protector, a wing man, now—a traitor, a puppet, a corpse.

And me…then—a sacrificial martyr, rebellious teenager, now…well, I'm still the same, and forever will be.

As I watch the snow swirl around me, dotting my black hair with specks of white, I can see how I belong in this frozen landscape: I am frozen where I am—solid like a frozen pine needle or fallen twig. If I try to bend, I break. But when spring comes to these woods, the snow will melt and flowers will bloom and Persephone will breathe new life into everything. But unlike this forest, I will not melt when spring comes, I will not change or move or bloom or breathe new life.

I will remain forever frozen as the world progresses without me. A frozen winter just like now—white and still.

I take off running again, if only for the sake of moving my legs and arms again, trying to pump adrenaline into my immortal veins—simply trying to feel alive.

~fin~


	20. Prompt 020: Colorless

Prompt # 020 - Colorless

**Fade**

Time Frame: Winter

Pairing: None

POV: Persephone 

x0x0x0x

"I see a lily on thy brow

With anguish moist and fever dew;

And on thy cheek a fading rose

Fast withereth too."

-John Keats

x0x0x0x

The fabric of my skirt whispers almost inaudibly across the dry, cracked ground of my garden as I walk.

It is winter. I serve no purpose to the world above for another few months, so I am exiled back to my husband's realm for I have none of my own. I touch the non-flowers, the hard, cold rocks that glitter dimly—like half remembered glimpses of the glory that is my springtime.

In spring I am radiant. I know I am.

As I walk through the forests and the fields and simply _am_ with my season, I can feel the energy radiating off me to the sleeping earth, urging it to wake up and feel the sun. And I can feel the flowers: the bright gorgeous flowers giving some of their strength back to me. My dress explodes in every color known to nature, my eyes shifting, constantly straining to reflect the myriad of colors they see. My hair is bright and brilliant and luminous.

I am brilliant as the sun itself, the colors bursting from me.

But now it is winter, and I am but a ghost. Not even the soft white of daisies or Queen Ann's lace colors my dress or eyes. I am colorless—devoid of all that makes springtime wonderful. Dull and transparent and frail—looking as if I might disperse like fog at any moment.

My winters are spent in this place—this palace with no sky to look up to, no plants to water except that cursed pomegranate tree.

There are only dead gems in my garden. Just like me now—sad remembrances of what they once were: alive and full of color.

~fin~


	21. Prompt 021: Friends

Prompt # 021 - Friends

**With My Friends**

Time Frame: The Last Olympian – Chapter 19: We Trash the Eternal City

Pairing: Annabeth/Percy, friendship Annabeth/Percy/Grover

POV: Percy

A/n: I was going to rewrite this as _after_ Thalia was incapacitated, so it would just be the trio, but I'm too lazy, and I got Percabeth in there, so I'm happy.

x0x0x0x

"I'm glad to be with you... here, at the end of all things."

-The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (2003)

x0x0x0x

"I won't go down by myself, but I'll go down with my friends,"

-I Never Told You What I Do For a Living

By: My Chemical Romance

x0x0x0x

The world is whirling and desperate. My ears have long since given up comprehending each sound it hears—each scream of agony, each clang of swords and armor, each crumbling building. Thalia is with us too, but her presence is not so pronounced to me. It is my trio—me, Annabeth, and Grover that is important to me now.

Annabeth is on my left, Grover is on my right, and together we are making our way towards the center of Olympus.

It started out as us three, from the very beginning.

It only makes sense that at the end of it all, it would be us three together again.

The ground is literally falling out from under our feet as we spring from rock to rock, the stones falling as soon as our weight has shifted off them. The bridge between the gods and mortals is now, literally, disintegrating behind us.

But, then I hear her clear voice ring out behind me.

"Percy!" I dive and snatch her hand, my fingers gripping her forearm. And for a terrifying moment, I felt us tilting, felt Annabeth dragging me over the edge, felt as if we would plummet together to the ground. Her hand, slick with sweat from fighting and adrenaline and fear, began to slip until only our intertwined fingers were connected. And for a moment I could imagine myself, our all too mortal blood painting the streets of my beloved, devastated city.

We're going to fall, I thought for a dizzying second. I'm going to die without ever kissing her again.

But then, I felt strong hands around my ankles, slowly dragging me up, back onto the solid stone. We lay, gasping, our limbs intertwined, not worrying for a liberating second about apocalypses or complications…simply reveling in the fact that she is here and solid and alive in my arms and silently celebrating the fact that we will live to breathe another breath.

"Um, thanks." Her voice whispers, breaking me out of my reverie and the gravity of our situation comes crashing down like the stones around us. Grover urges us to keep moving, and we follow, stumbling once again towards the end…of us? of Kronos? The end of something at least.

Finally, after today, it is all going to end.

And here, with my friends, I can think of no better way to end it.

~fin~


	22. Prompt 022: Enemies

Prompt # 022 - Enemies

**My Own Worst Enemy**

Time Frame: Post-Battle of the Labyrinth

Pairing: None

POV: Luke

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

"The face of the enemy frightens me only when I see how much it resembles me."

-Anonymous

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

Luke is drifting now—no longer here, nor there. Drifting, he is, in the shadowed world between living and dead, sane and crazy, waking and sleep.

Since the moment it happened, he realized it was a mistake. He had been wrong about everything. Wrong about the gods, wrong about the Titans, wrong about his father and his mother and Percy and Annabeth and Thalia and Grover and the camp and his old life.

Was it so bad, Luke wonders, to be in a place where everyone had something to fight for? Was it really that awful he never knew his father? Was it so bad to have brothers and cousins and a place to stay and train? Was it so bad to have a teacher and friends and a place to call home?

No.

And now because he so focused on what was missing instead of what was there, everything has been taken from him. And now Luke is merely a memory.

Still, for brief moments he can surface, pushing for his new-found allegiance to the first and only family that ever really took care of Luke.

His enemy used to be his past—his father and his family that rule distantly from the clouds. Fueled by hate and spite and vengeance and a broken heart, Luke joined the Titan army and fought for Kronos.

But now his enemy is within him—the ancient evil his father fought against to free the human race. Now he is fueled by love for those he left behind and heroism that would rival heroes of ages past.

Is Luke scared? Yes. Terrified? Certainly. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he won't make it out of this alive. But he knew from the get-go his life would be short and messy and miserable. That's not the part that bothers Luke now. It is the fact that the enemy he is fighting now is inside him—and Luke was the one who let him in.

And now it's Luke's job to take him out once and for all.

He is essentially now fighting himself. Ever pushing back the darkness in his mind, ever climbing upwards towards the light and all those he abandoned and betrayed.

Struggling to regain all that he took for granted so readily growing up.

Fighting to simply be Luke Castellan once more.

~fin~


	23. Prompt 023: Lovers

Prompt # 023 - Lovers

**Out to Sea**

Time Frame: Nine Months Before Percy was Born ;P

Pairing: Poseidon/Sally

POV: None

A/n: Rating is upped a little more. Not graphic or anything. Just slightly mature themes. The prompt is _Lovers_ after all…

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

"I want to swim away but don't know how

Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean

Let the waves up: take me down

Let the hurricane set in motion…yeah

Let the rain of what I feel right now come down."

-_Into the Ocean_ by Blue October

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

His eyes and his hands and his lips...they are like water pouring over her. She is submerged in the silky currents as sheets and hands alike slide along her skin. The blood pounding in her ears sounds like the waves crashing on the beach, and when she lays her head against his chest, she can hear his heartbeat…a small, simple, yet profound sound that lets her know there is something real and tangible they have in common: a heartbeat.

"I love you."

Back and forth, love and energy and heat passed between them, back and forth. It crashes upon Sally's shore, the water desperate to touch the sand, to caress and kiss its warm solid earth. And then the undertow drags the water and sand back out to sea, pulling some of the land back into the cool waters, embracing it.

"I love you."

It sounds like a sea breeze whipping through Sally's hair. Like the soft roar of the distant water. Powerful and mysterious and wonderful.

"I love you."

A soft caress—water surging about her ankles as she wades deeper. Step by step the waves reach up the shore, desperate for contact with that it can never truly have. Step by step, sea and earth and rock is whisked into the water, swirling about it, merging together

"I love you."

Step by step…

"I love you."

…land and sea become one.

~fin~


	24. Prompt 024: Family

Prompt # 024 - Family

**Tales From Another Broken Home**

Time Frame: Pre-Lightning Thief 

Pairing: None

POV: Percy

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

"According to you  
I'm stupid, I'm useless,  
I can't do anything right."

-_According to You_ by: Orianthi

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

It's just another day in the life of little nobody, Percy Jackson. Percy clenches his fists. His mom hangs up the phone, her face looking more tired than usual—which is saying something.

"They reject you again, kid? Surprise, surprise." Gabe's sarcastic drawl from the living room makes Percy's blood boil. That's all he is to this idiot. Stupid, retarded, mentally-disabled Percy. He hears the slob take a drink of beer and switch the channel. Percy wishes he'd turn down the damn volume. "God, can't even make it into sixth grade," he hears Gabe chuckle sadistically and Percy can also make out the sound of a chip bag crinkling. "I vote we kick him out Sally. Looks like he's not amount to anything anyway. Might as well cut your loses while you're ahead." Percy's pretty sure the guys not really kidding.

His arms are trembling with rage, wanting to hit and kick and break and shatter anything he can get his hands on. Who does this guy think he is? Percy takes an unconscious step towards the living room but a thin hand on his shoulder stops him.

"Its okay, Percy," the calm manner of his mother's voice is not only a reassurance, but a warning. _Don't,_ it implies. "We'll just have to find another school to apply for this year."

"If you can find one that hasn't kicked him out yet," Gabe's raspy tones interject from the other room.

"Percy…" the whisper in his ear is the _only_ thing that stops him from sprinting to the living room and shoving Gabe's face through the TV.

"Why do you do it, Mom? What could you possibly see in that creep?" He is still roiling and writing inside—rage and injustice and hate fighting to the death inside him.

Sally doesn't look at him. Only lets her long, unkempt hair slide forward to cover her face as she mutters:

"He's part of the family now."

"He's not _my_ family," Percy spits. "It's bad enough I have to live with him. If I was related to him I might just go jump off the roof."

"Then why don't you, kid? Might save your mother some trouble!"

This time Sally literally has to hold him around the waist to keep Percy in the hallway and away from Gabe.

"Percy! Percy, stop!"

"All right, Mom, all right!" Percy exclaims and twists out of her grasp, stomping loudly towards his room. As he passes the living room he calls without turning his head, "Stay the hell away from me!"

He slams his door, shutting out whatever Gabe's stupid comeback would have been. Half-blind with rage, Percy's fist slams into the drywall. Over and over until it there is a decent sized hole in the middle of his wall.

Finally, left with only an aching hand and a hole in both his wall and heart, he sits down on his bed and simply stares.

"_He's part of the family now."_

Yah, right. This dismal little apartment with that awful, pathetic excuse for a father-figure, and his sweet amazing mother run down to a fraction of what she used to be…this is not a family.

A family is people who are there for you, who you love and miss when you're apart. They feel like part of you, even if you don't like them all that much. They support you and love you no matter what.

What Percy Jackson has isn't a family.

It's a broken, shattered home.

~fin~


	25. Prompt 025: Strangers

Prompt # 025 - Strangers

**To Wander**

Time Frame: Anytime before the end of The Lightning Thief

Pairing: None

POV: None

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

"Because they're sharing a drink they call loneliness

But it's better than drinking alone."

-_Pianoman_ by: Billy Joel

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

Being a half-blood, constants in your life aren't something you can take for granted.

Especially if you're a son of Hermes.

Luke sits in his bunk—that a luxury in itself since the rest of the cabin is stuffed full of unclaimed kids—and stares at all the new faces. He's leader of the Hermes cabin, yeah, but some of the kids are in and out so quick he doesn't even learn their names—traveling, just as Hermes does.

If you're a child of Hermes, it's kind of your destiny to be forever drifting.

So Luke is okay with not having a really place he feels comfortable calling home. Because home is where the people you love are. And there are too many variables in the Hermes cabin for that to happen. Kids constantly going in and out, finding out who they are, moving on, getting killed by some monster.

Luke is a traveler on the roads of life, he likes to think. His home is not a stationary place.

But for the rest of them in Hermes cabin—those who are perpetually unclaimed, they are the ones who are forever wandering.

Sure, they are stuck in the Hermes cabin, but they are the ones who are the true travelers…they are the children who are still searching for who they are.

Forever surrounded by a sea of strangers, those who are still searching, but on a different path, or those who have already found where they belong.

And forever strangers to themselves, forever wondering who and where they come from, longing for the past to reassure their future.

Luke guesses for the time being, though, they're found a place here among the perpetually lost.

They've found a home on the road for a while.

And made some friends among strangers.

~fin~


	26. Prompt 026: Teammates

Prompt # 026 - Teammates

**Common Denominator**

Time Frame: The Titan's Curse – Chapter Six

Pairing: None

POV: None

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

"We need a common enemy to unite us."

-Condoleezza Rice

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

There is an electricity in the air tonight at Camp Half-Blood. As the camper strap on their armor, anxiously anticipating the coming game, it is somehow more intense than other game's they've fought.

Because this time, it is not cabin versus cabin, camper versus camper. This time, they are all playing against one foe—the Hunters.

For this one evening, small feuds are forgotten in the shadow of larger quarrels. There is no petty bickering between the Stoll brothers and the Ares kids. There is no nasally complaining from Silena and her siblings. There is only focused intensity on the coming battle.

Fifty-six times the campers of Half-Blood Hill lost. And among the varying lineage and characteristics, they are all thinking today, the fifty-seventh game will turn the tide, and the children of the gods will reign triumphant once more.

For a moment—for this brief, sharp, intense moment—there are no cabins, there are no grudges, there are no divides.

There is an "us", and there is a "them".

The world is black and white for once as they grab their swords and shields and bows and spears.

And with a common enemy, they march into battle.

~fin~


	27. Prompt 027: Parents

Prompt #027 - Parents

**Carry On, My Wayward Son**

Time Frame: Anytime after Luke's quest

Pairing: None

POV: Luke

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

"You hate someone whom you really wish to love…"

-Sri Chinmoy

XoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoX

I hate him, Luke decides. I absolutely hate him.

What a stupid quest. What a stupid way to prove himself. What a waste of time.

Luke doesn't understand. Why did Hermes send him on Hercules' old quest? Luke bets they were pals back in the day.

He bets Hermes would rather have Hercules for a son.

He goes on a stupid quest, to get a stupid apple, and all he gets is that stupid scar. A forever reminder of all the times he's been blown off and almost died, and only escaped by the skin of his teeth because _he_ is strong and knows how to survive. Not because his father cares enough to help.

It's as if nothing Luke ever does is good enough for him. Even though Hermes is his father, Luke has only met his father once. And during that meeting, every time he looked at Luke, his eyes held and expression of pity.

Sorry?

Luke clenches his teeth. Luke has trained and trained and trained to be the fastest, the strongest, the best swordsman for so many years, and his father looks at him, not with pride…but with pity.

Hermes. Stupid god of thieves. He stole Luke's childhood from him. Stole his mother's sanity.

Stole his only chance of a normal life.

But none of that matters now. _Nothing_ matters now.

~fin~


	28. Prompt 028: Children

Prompt #028 - Children

**Beside Still Waters**

Time Frame: From Percy arriving at Camp Half-Blood Forward

Pairing: None

POV: Poseidon

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"A day's light told me of my son's fate  
Pulled under the raging waters, my child  
Sank in the drowning currents, my son  
Guardian of the shore will sleep in your warmth  
Lull the folk of cold water  
Banish the serpents of the dark  
To the river let me go and fetch my son away  
Untouched I shall walk by the river of the night  
My child  
My son"

-_Silent Waters_ by: Amorphis

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It is at moments like these that I cannot stand being a god.

What is the point, I wonder, of controlling the entire might of the oceans if there is nothing I can do for my son? I see him, I watch him from high up in the clouds on my throne and I can do nothing.

I watched him grow. My little boy having to face the evils of the world alone, not knowing how special he was, how _important_ he was. That killed me. To see him sitting in class or in his room, thinking he was stupid and a loser and a nobody—for him to have to go through it alone.

I should have been there to tell him the ancient stories as he fell asleep at night. I should have been the one to teach him how to hold a sword. I should have been there, telling him how vital he was, how strong he would become.

I should have been there to be his father.

But I wasn't.

And now my son is growing older everyday, and each day the powers of evil and chaos grow steadily closer to him. From up on Olympus I can see as he cannot on the ground. And I watch in anguish as a tangible dark cloud slowly closes in on my son.

And there is nothing I can do but watch.

I yearn to be down there, to help him, to fight for him—to show him his father is strong and powerful and there for him.

But the time for protecting him is long over. My chance for that has slipped through my fingers like water through a sieve.

I lost my chance to be there for my son.

And now he must face his trials alone, regardless of how much it kills me to watch him hurt and cry and feel lost and abandoned.

There is nothing I can do now but watch as my pride and joy—my Percy—attempts to navigate the rushing, violent currents of his life.

There is nothing I can do now but hope with every fiber of my being that calm waters await him further downstream.

~fin~


	29. Prompt 029: Birth

Prompt #029 – Birth

**A Mother's Love**

Time Frame: Just after Zeus's Birth

Pairing: Vague Kronos/Rhea

POV: Rhea (Kronos's Wife)

A/n: This one requires some mythology knowledge of how Kronos ate all his kids when they were born because there was a prophecy that one of them would overthrow Kronos. But Rhea gave Kronos a rock and Kronos thought he ate Zeus but Rhea hid Zeus where he grew up and later came back and chopped up Kronos and rescued his siblings that were growing up unharmed (since they're immortal) in Kronos's stomach. Ta-da!

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"A father may turn his back on his child, brothers and sisters may become inveterate enemies, husbands may desert their wives, wives their husbands. But a mother's love endures through all. "

-Washington Irving

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I am paralyzed with fear.

_Not another of my children, not another of my children. _It is a mantra in my head.

I clutch my newborn child closer to my chest, turning away from his gaze. I can feel him take a step closer to me. The ground shivers and quakes and I seem to shrink in his presence. I can feel my new son wriggle in my arms, as if he knows something is coming.

"Rhea..." My eyes are squeezed shut, my muscles tense as a bowstring, "Give him to me." _No, no, no, not another of my children._

"It's just a prophecy…" I whisper. There was no way he could have heard me, but the whispers pour from my lips, regardless. "Please…no…."

All of my other sons and daughters, gone because of what might happen. _Not again, not again_.

"Rhea," his voice seems to make the very air around us tremble. Amongst the terror I acknowledge that my baby isn't crying. Strong, brave little Zeus. He was just born to this world moments ago. _Please, no…_ "Give him here."

I will not let my husband take away another of my children.

_Not again._

My son will grow tall and strong; he will save his siblings. He will become the king he was born to be.

_Not another of my children_, I think as I stoop to grab a rock, _never again_.

~fin~


End file.
